


bad for me

by itstaehyunq



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Cars, Frasier - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Possibly Unrequited Love, Says the author, Smoking, Unrequited Love, Weed?, anyway heres the exos, ive. never seen frasier, i’m sure jongdae isn’t stinky but in this universe he smells like weed, mentions of vomiting, no clue what to tag, nothing graphic tho, oh ur excited to see where the story goes? me too pal, sorry dae, sorry for making yall wait so long for more things, theyre just a little drunk, we will see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-07 07:23:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20305651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itstaehyunq/pseuds/itstaehyunq
Summary: A crunch of sneakers walking on asphalt. A mumble to a friend. One, two, three clicks of a lighter, and a sigh as whatever is inhaled is exhaled.Two knocks on a window. “Come out here,” Yifan says, muffled only slightly in his proximity. Kyungsoo looks up at him as he’s taking another drag of his cigarette and waves him away so he can get out.





	1. i’m always down

**Author's Note:**

> im fuckin sorry yall, writing is hard school is hard life is hard ! 
> 
> anyway. ksoo’s audi is a kinda shitty, used, white 2010 audi a6 he got for $9500. the seat backs fall off in the summer heat, the engine light, service light, and tire pressure light are always on, and she drives bumpy and too fast, but he loves her anyway. 
> 
> in-fic car situation:  
kyungsoo’s car - kyungsoo, sehun, jongin, baek, chanyeol.  
joonmyun’s car - myun, minseok, jd, yixing.  
the third car is fan’s vintage truck in which is crammed fan, lu, and tao. 
> 
> title is from that tik tok thing, idk
> 
> unbeta’d because i live on the edge and don’t care enough and wrote this in an hour

“Holy fucking _ shit, _ pull over pull over pull over _ right now _ or I’m gonna be sick.” Sehun grips the handle above his door with white knuckles, a match to Kyungsoo’s grip on the wheel. 

“Not all over my dash, you won’t.” Kyungsoo jerks the wheel to the side and drives his Audi half off the shoulder. Sehun’s door is thrown open and shut again, and he is on his knees on the evening-damp grass, dry heaving, before Chanyeol can get his long legs out—as well as the rest of him—and hold Sehun’s hair back. 

There’s a considerable moment of pause, broken only by gross sounds of Sehun retching and Chanyeol patting his back and muttering things like, “you know movie theater popcorn makes you sick. Why do you insist on getting it every time?” Sehun, between gags, responds with a choice finger raised in Chanyeol’s general direction and a heavy _ it’s good, fuck you_. 

Still in the car, Kyungsoo drums his fingers on the faux leather of the wheel. In the backseat, Jongin reaches over a shoved-in-the-middle Baekhyun to shut the door that Chanyeol left open so that bugs can’t get in. It’s a difficult feat, considering the limited space, but Baekhyun eventually reaches over and shuts it for him. 

A black Jeep crunches up behind them. Kyungsoo rolls down his window, and Joonmyun sticks his head in. “Problem?” he asks, as if he can’t hear Sehun on the other side of the car.

Kyungsoo points to Sehun’s shadowy, hunched figure anyway, half blocked by Chanyeol’s looming one. “Couldn’t stomach the speed limit.” 

“Or the lack of one thereof,” Jongin calls from behind him. One glance in the rearview mirror tells Kyungsoo that Jongin isn’t feeling at his best either. 

Joonmyun glances at the three remaining boys in the car, then sighs. There’s Coca Cola and a hint of pot on his breath, one of which must be left over from the passengers in his car. It’s not the Coca Cola. “Let me take him? You can have Jongdae. He keeps begging me to catch up with you, anyway.” 

“Hell no. He’ll stink up my interior. Unless you can bathe him first, keep him. I’ll go slower so Hun can contain his fluids.”

There’s another pause as Joonmyun stares him down like he’s mentally choking Kyungsoo through the car window. When the brief tension is gone, Joonmyun lets out a sigh. He stands back and looks up and down the road. “Let’s wait for the others to catch up, at least. They got caught at a couple lights.”

A dark silhouette comes up behind Joonmyun and wraps its shadowy arms around him, features defined by the single floodlight five hundred feet away. “Are we there yet,” Minseok mutters into Joonmyun’s neck. “I’m starving to death. Xing wants Shake Shack. It’s fuckin’ _ freezing _ out here.” His voice is deep and rough from the weed. His hands travel down, down towards Joonmyun’s hips, then up, up, up underneath his leather jacket. The familiarity between the two isn’t shocking to Kyungsoo or any of the others—Minseok is consistently touchy when he’s high, Joonmyun is constantly touch-starved. They’re a match that all of them saw coming. 

Joonmyun’s hands leave the windowsill as he turns around, walking Minseok back towards the Jeep with softened words reserved only for him. 

Now, the only noise comes from the sound of the Audi’s engine. Sehun has finally quieted down outside, as has Chanyeol. In the back, Jongin and Baekhyun are sharing headphones and watching something on Jongin’s phone, sitting impossibly close to each other. 

Quiet moments like these are deafening, sickening to Kyungsoo. He doesn’t _ hate _ the quiet, but this quiet—surrounded by his best friends on all sides, sitting in his car on a deserted just-past-city-limits road—this quiet makes him think of just how lucky he is to only experience it for a moment. The constant noise of the boys, his boys, is a comfort deep-seated in his soul. 

Just as Kyungsoo is sure he can’t take another moment of silence, a third car rolls up. The driver parks but doesn’t turn off the engine, and Kyungsoo can hear the thud of two doors closing at staggered intervals. 

“The fuck is going on?” someone says, just loud enough to be heard through metal and glass. There’s a garbled reply from the Jeep. Kyungsoo isn’t paying attention to what is said. 

A crunch of sneakers walking on asphalt. A mumble to a friend. One, two, three clicks of a lighter, and a sigh as whatever is inhaled is exhaled. 

Two knocks on a window. “Come out here,” Yifan says, muffled only slightly in his proximity. Kyungsoo looks up at him as he’s taking another drag of his cigarette and waves him away so he can get out. 

The air is crisper than he expected, but it isn’t unwelcome. Autumn will be upon them soon, as evident in the chill of the evening. Kyungsoo left his jacket in his car. 

When he turns around to fetch it, there’s something being dropped onto his shoulders. It smells like cologne and cigarettes and musk, like Yifan. Yifan is now jacketless, standing behind Kyungsoo and lighting up another. At least he has long sleeves on.

“Y’looked cold,” Yifan mutters, taking a drag before offering it to Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo accepts gratefully with a small word of thanks. He’s drowning in the jacket, pushing his arms through the massive sleeves as the cigarette hangs from his lips, but it’s warm and smells like _ good _ and _ familiar _ and _ home. _Everything Yifan owns smells like good and familiar and home. 

They pass the cigarette back and forth until it’s down to the filter and Kyungsoo is warm from the inside out. Yifan looks like he’ll go for another, but Kyungsoo stops him with a wave of his hand. 

With a raise of his thick brows, Yifan shoves the lighter and the pack back into his jeans pockets. “Your couch open tonight? Lu keeps looking at his phone like he wants to eat it alive, so he’s got The Girlfriend over tonight, and Zitao’s planning on going out again.”

“It’s always open.” Kyungsoo leans against the hood of the Audi, which is both warm from the engine and cold from the night air. “There’s a _ Frasier _ rerun on at one. You down?”

“I’m always down.” 


	2. you know me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s familiar. They’ve done this nearly every weekend for almost two years, and the companionable silence falls naturally like a soft blanket every time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i lied! sorry.  
got a writing bug sometime last night to go ahead and keep going. when you get the bug, you run with it. 
> 
> short chapter, i know, but i felt compelled to keep going. chapter three is in the works, i hope. 
> 
> unbeta’d again.

By the time they make it back to Kyungsoo’s, the _ Frasier _ rerun has already started. Kyungsoo turns it on anyway. 

Yifan grabs two beers from the shitty 90’s fridge that came with the apartment. He opens them on the fridge-magnet-bottle-opener that Kyungsoo inherited from his dad—the only thing he inherited from his dad, besides the inability to grow a beard that isn’t patchy and the inability to deal with his problems in a logical manner. 

The silence is more comfortable than anything, now, but Kyungsoo supposes it isn’t actually _ silent. _ The noise of the city below is loud enough to puncture through his paper-thin walls, and the sounds of _ Frasier _ only add to it, but the quiet that the two sit in as they mindlessly watch and listen and drink isn’t bad. 

It’s familiar. They’ve done this nearly every weekend for almost two years, and the companionable silence falls naturally like a soft blanket every time. 

Yifan is familiar and safe. He’s safe, especially when Kyungsoo rests his feet on Yifan’s thighs, and Yifan sets his hand on Kyungsoo’s shin. Especially when he finishes his beer and grabs another for Kyungsoo as well without even asking. 

Especially when, instead of sitting and drinking his second beer, he pushes Kyungsoo back onto the arm of the couch and brackets him with his body. 

“’Fan,” Kyungsoo whispers, as if he wants Yifan to stop. 

Kyungsoo doesn’t want him to stop. He hasn’t once wanted to stop, in the last almost-two-years. Lit up by the TV screen and the streetlights, Yifan is beautiful. He’d say it out loud, but Yifan wouldn’t believe him; it’s better to keep those thoughts to himself. 

“Yes or no?” Yifan asks, just like every other time, as if he expects a different answer from the one he will always receive. 

Another breath escapes Yifan’s lips to ghost across Kyungsoo’s. Like always, he’s cigarettes and home. “Please,” Kyungsoo whispers. 

Yifan kisses rough, all chapped lips and a sharp, unshaven face. He’s always too rough, too hard and demanding, until Kyungsoo sets a hand on his stubbly cheek and slows it right down. There’s not a feeling in the world that still makes Kyungsoo’s heart pound harder than kissing Yifan, and for good reason. 

  
  


_ The flavor in Yifan’s mouth isn’t unfamiliar to Kyungsoo, but he’s sure never _ tasted _ it before. The dark smell of Kyungsoo’s dad’s favorite cigarettes is one Kyungsoo is very acquainted with, but it’s too different when it’s directly from Yifan’s mouth. _

_ They’re not drunk enough. Maybe that’s why Kyungsoo feels Yifan hard and proud against his thigh when Yifan leans down to kiss him again and again and again. He kisses like a lion devours its prey, and Kyungsoo’s a helpless gazelle separated from its herd. _

_ “What do you want?” Yifan asks, one hand covering all of Kyungsoo’s waist, and the other holding him up. _

_ “I need a drink,” Kyungsoo whispers, “and then I need you.” _

  
  


The first time that Yifan kissed him was after his dad died. Kyungsoo needed a distraction. Yifan was perfect for the job. Yifan smoked, but not Kyungsoo’s dad’s cigarettes. Yifan needed a place to stay for the night, and Kyungsoo’s couch was open. Yifan was familiar and safe. 

Then Yifan kissed him, and never stopped. 

They’ve never defined what they are. Just two friends who fuck on the weekends because they need an outlet or a destressor or a bit of fun or just sex, _ good _ sex. 

Tonight, they need everything. An outlet, a destressor, a bit of fun, and good, good sex. Sex with somebody who knows Kyungsoo’s body like the back of his hand, and whose body Kyungsoo knows better than his own. 

“Stop thinking,” Yifan mutters against Kyungsoo’s mouth, snapping him from his thoughts. 

Kyungsoo pinches Yifan’s cheek. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll kiss you.”

“Then do it, coward. I dare you.”

And _ God _, does Yifan kiss him. 

Yifan’s hand moves from where it rests against Kyungsoo’s waist. He grabs at Kyungsoo’s thigh instead, not quite rough but definitely not gentle, and pulls. Kyungsoo gasps as he’s dragged off of the armrest of the couch, and then Yifan’s broad chest is right in front of his face. Yifan moves to follow him down, but Kyungsoo stops him with a hand against his ribcage. 

With a bit more wriggling and maneuvering, Kyungsoo’s in a prime spot to attach his mouth to Yifan’s neck and nip at his skin. He tastes like sweat and a bit like aftershave, salty yet somehow bitter but purely _ Yifan. _

There’s something special to be said about the way Yifan moves pliantly in the way Kyungsoo likes, leaning back when pushed and straightening his mile-long legs so Kyungsoo can sit on his lap and bite marks on his neck. Kyungsoo has never, ever seen him move like this for anyone else; he’s clay for that split second, molded by Kyungsoo’s hands. 

It’s part of the reason Kyungsoo’s in love with him. 

“I told you to stop thinking so hard,” Yifan says. He sounds different from underneath Kyungsoo. 

Kyungsoo licks a stripe from his collarbone to his jawline. “Or you’ll do what?”

“I’ll fuck you.”

With a roll of his eyes, Kyungsoo kisses the sly grin from Yifan’s mouth. “Get on with it, then. I’m getting bored waiting for you to get it up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are appreciated. my twitter is @itstaehyunq if you’d like to yell at me.

**Author's Note:**

> to be cont i hope. 
> 
> i really do not know when i’ll continue this, if ever. if you check my other fics i’ve got a graveyard of incomplete and shitty stuff i wrote a few years ago. same goes with my garbage can of a google docs homepage. 
> 
> if you really think this story needs an ending as of right now, i suppose the first chapter can be read as a standalone one-shot with an open, vague ending. fuck it, rlly.
> 
> as closure, what i imagine happening is kyungsoo and yifan dropping the boys off and heading home together, then making out on kyungsoo’s couch to the background sounds of frasier. we will see if this happens.


End file.
